


If you heard this in a supermarket.

by larrysunrays



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Break Up, Getting Back Together, M/M, Songfic, is that a thing?, larry stylinson - Freeform, leddra chapman, lol okay, supermarket au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 09:50:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3352193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrysunrays/pseuds/larrysunrays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He hasn't touched anything in the flat since then, not properly anyway, instead deciding to leave things as they are, leave the covers that still smell like the younger boy ruffled up on the bed, instead deciding to sleep on the sofa. He knows that there are bits and bobs of Harry all around the house; his eye cooling mask in the fridge, his odd socks thrown under the dining table, his aftershave on the third step up on the stairs and he knows he should move them, should try to get his life somewhat back together but every single time he goes to pick up that small blue bottle from the step there is something that makes him pull back, something that says well actually, he might come back one day and what if he put that there for a reason, what if he wanted to keep the aftershave there?</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Or the one where Louis and Harry break up then fall back together again.<br/><em> Inspired by Leddra Chapman's 'Supermarket'.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	If you heard this in a supermarket.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic inspired by Leddra Chapman's song 'Supermarket'
> 
> You can find me at thewetdreamteam.tumblr.com   
> Mimi x

_you hear this in a supermarket could you make a little room in your basket?_  
_If you heard this in a supermarket would you love me?_  
…

_Two months and three days._

That seemed to be the only thing that was running through Louis’ mind recently, a never ending countdown of the days since he had been truly and utterly happy, well, since he thought he was but, given the circumstances, maybe they weren't as happy as he always thought. Maybe everything that Louis had experienced the last five years was nothing but a lie, a drawn out and bitter sweet lie. 

This is what his life had been like recently, nothing but questioning and doubting. And crying. But, that’s pretty understandable because when you've just broken up with your boyfriend of five years and he just so happens to be the most famous solo act currently in the world, you tend to see his face everywhere you go. Like everywhere. You can’t even have a shit in some dingy burger joint without some in your face advertisement for his new album gracing the back of the toilet door. 

Maybe even more painful than that is when you're listening to the radio and they play a song that he released two years ago that you know is about you because he had whispered the lyrics whilst trailing kisses down your body. Louis knows what pain and unhappiness feels like and that’s all he’s been feeling for _two months and three days._

When Harry left Louis on that cold night in December, spouting lines about how he needed _'space'_ and _'time'_ , Louis had to learn how to do the usual everyday things that normal people do. He and Harry had moved to London together so that Harry could pursue his singing career when they were only sixteen and eighteen meaning that, though most of the five years since had been spent on a crowded tour bus with someone else cooking their every meal and doing their laundry, when they were at home Harry had decided to take over the job of being Louis’ mother and he had done everything for the older boy, everything from the grocery shopping to cleaning out the shower plug when it got too clogged up with hair. So, when Harry left Louis found it difficult to adjust but, with a little help from some of his closest friends, he had learnt how to properly supermarket shop so he didn't just come home with junk food everyday, and why he shouldn't put his red socks in with his white T-shirts. 

So, that’s how Louis finds himself in the frozen food section of ASDA at 10pm on a Thursday night in February. He quietly mutters to himself as he goes onto his tip toes so he can reach to the top shelf of a tall freezer to grab at the frozen prawns (he most certainly doesn't think about how if Harry were here he would swoop in and grab the box from Louis, and tell him that he needs to stop going on his tip toes too much because he will damage his calves. He doesn't think about that. He doesn’t). There is no one else in the isle, the only noise that can be heard is the humming of the freezers and the distant beep of the cashier. It’s then that he hears a familiar sound, because, well, he's known Harry since he was a tiny four year old, he would know his voice even if someone had put a stupid Alvin and The Chipmunks effect on it. 

_“If you heard this in a supermarket,_  
would you come home to me?  
I have thought it all through and I’m low without you  
so could you come home to me?”

His breath catches in his throat. This is a new song, a song he’s never heard before and it hurts so fucking much because he knows this song is about him, knows that Harry isn't the kind of person to move on that fast, knows that this is Harry saying he wants to talk. Maybe even wants him back.

 _“I know I frustrate you, I hate you_  
but in a crazy way I love you  
do you miss me, ‘cause maybe  
you’ll fall head over heels again.”

He tries not to get his hopes up too much as he wipes the salty tears that have been falling down his cheeks for the past few minutes. Even if this is Harry asking for him back, should he do it? When he had come home from work that night to find Harry with his bags packed by the door his whole heart had broken and he had barely been able to make out Harry’s words over the sound of his own sobbing and pleading for Harry to just _please please please tell him what he did, tell him where it all went wrong_. He hasn't touched anything in the flat since then, not properly anyway, instead deciding to leave things as they are, leave the covers that still smell like the younger boy ruffled up on the bed, instead deciding to sleep on the sofa. He knows that there are bits and bobs of Harry all around the house; his eye cooling mask in the fridge, his odd socks thrown under the dining table, his aftershave on the third step up on the stairs and he knows he should move them, should try to get his life somewhat back together but every single time he goes to pick up that small blue bottle from the step there is something that makes him pull back, something that says well actually, he might come back one day and what if he put that there for a reason, what if he wanted to keep the aftershave there? 

The song ends with a soft hum of _“If you heard this in a supermarket, would you come home to me?”_ and he drops his basket, not bothering to check that he hadn't smashed one of the many bottles of alcohol that are laying hidden underneath the share packet of prawn cocktail Skips. He runs out of the shop, dodging the flustered worker that calls out a frustrated “HEY!” as he trips over her stash of olive pots. When he reaches his car he unlocks it in lightning speed, climbs into the sleek black Land Rover and slumps over the leather steering wheel, finally letting all the emotions run out of him. 

_What was he supposed to do?_

…

Flash forwards three days later when Louis is on his way to work, a flask of tea in his cup holder and black bags prominent under his eyes from too little sleep. Being a teacher is one of his favourite things in the world but the early mornings are something that he has come to hate since he started his job in September. 

He cranks up the heating, waiting for the chill that had gathered over night to disperse. Once the steering wheel has actually warmed up enough that he can bare to touch it he pulls out of his drive way and, how lovely, straight into a traffic jam. He decided that its best if he just waits it out instead of trying a different route, after living in London for five years he knows how easy it is to get lost. Whilst he’s fiddling with the confusing nobs on the dashboard (he’s had this car for almost two years now and he still has no idea what the all do) he accidentally fumbles across the radio button and suddenly his car is filled with singing. And oh god, he knows that song. 

_“If you heard this in a traffic jam_  
would you drive home to me?  
Would you walk through my door, say you want me for sure  
oh would you drive home to me?”

A spur of the moment decision is made there and then. He’s had enough, he’s going to see his boy. He turns the vehicle around, ignoring the angry honks of horns from the cars surrounding him. He needs to see Harry. 

There are so many things that are going through his mind on the drive and when he finally pulls up to Ed’s house he has to sit in the car for a moment to catch his breath, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He jumps out of the car and practically runs up to the front door. It isn't until his hand has reached up to press the bell, sending a thrill ringing sound through the house, that he realised he has absolutely no idea what he is even planning on saying. 

It takes less than a minute for someone to make it to greet him but it seems like eternity and suddenly the door is swung open, showing a sleep rumpled Harry Styles. Louis’ eyes scan his body, taking in his baggy T-shirt, dirty sweatpants and teddy bear slippers that Louis had gifted him what must be three years ago now. 

“Hi” Comes a timid whisper and his eyes immediately snap back up to the boy’s face. It’s only now that he notices just how rough Harry looks. His eyes are sunken with the usual shine in the iris gone leaving only a dull green colour, there are spots covering his forehead which Louis knows he gets when he’s stressed and the skin above his top lip is bitten raw, a dirty habit he picked up for when he’s nervous. “I guess you heard the song?”

And thats all Louis needs. The next thing he knows he’s crowding into Harry’s space, cupping the younger boys face in his hands as he kisses the soft pink lips, licking away the tears that are falling into their mouths, from who's eyes he does not know. He presses promises of love and forgiveness into the younger boys mouth and Harry does the same, mumbling sorry words and ‘I love you’s over and over again but none of it matters right now because they have each other and they both know that that is the way it will stay forever. 

…

_Would you come home to me?_

…


End file.
